Sermon for May 11

This morning I had an interesting assignment. I wanted to talk about baptism because we are having a baptism this morning; say something about Mother's Day, because that is today; and I wanted to talk about the Gospel this morning. I went back and forth on how to do that and decided that the best way for for me to tell you the story about my worst Holy Week ever. (Not at this church.) Holy Week for those who don't know is one of the busiest times at the church. We had services every day Wednesday through Sunday, including an all night prayer vigil on Thursday night. Normally, it is my favourite time of the year. We follow the tragedy of Jesus' final week; every service helps us to meditate and enter more fully into one part of the story. When done well, it is a powerful spiritual experience. This one year it was not a powerful experience. This one year both my children had the stomach flu that same week. That week I would do a service, go home, stay up all night with a child who is scared and too young to understand why she is throwing up. I am cleaning it out of her hair, trying to contain it. Then go and do a another service. Repeat process. Do another service. That went on all week as Stephanie eventually got it as well. 

Going through the week it felt like I was doing two completely different things. On the one hand I was speaking about things like grace, love, eucharist, maudy thursday, vigil, altar, sacrifice, sin, redemption, resurrection. On the other hand I was speaking about things like flu, washing machines, clean the sheets, it's going to be okay honey, daddy's here, mop, hot water. And that is when the penny dropped and I understood something very important. They were not two different things; they were the same thing, they blended together in necessary way. At the church I brought my struggles and difficulties and thanks to Jesus and in the midst of the worshiping community I found the grace to go back home and bring the love of Christ working through me to my wife and children. The church and the house aren't separate. They are two sides of the same coin because the fundamental lesson I learned that weekend is this: The Business of Life IS the Business of the Gospel. I want to say that one more time and it is what I want you to take home with you this morning: The Business of Life IS the Business of the Gospel.

I bring it up because we are doing one of most glorious things this morning that we do in a church: we are baptizing a child into the faith of Jesus Christ. And it is such a joy to do exactly that. And baptism can seem so exalted, and it is exalted. It is a powerful experience. It looks like only a little water is being poured over a baby's head. But God has chosen to take that water and give it a spiritual significance that is hard to over estimate. What is baptism? It is uniting this child with Christ and his body the church; it is entry into the New Covenant with God; it is a sign of new life, a participation in the death and resurrection of Jesus; it is conversion and cleansing; it is receiving the Holy Spirit; it is a sign of the coming of the Kingdom of God. How exalted is that! And it is good to meditate on these deep truths.

But the problem is that the words we use to describe baptism are not the same words we normally use in our lives: dinner, washing maching, work, cell phone, Google, taxes, coffee, sleep, exercise, Ukraine, Nigeria, vacation, and television. Because of this there seems to be a disconnect between baptism and life and what I learned that Holy Week is that this not true. Why? Because all those fancy words to describe baptism come down to this truth: God is for you; God is with you. This is the bedrock, foundational truth. Baptism is the church's declaration that you are never alone; that you carry Christ with you and Christ will carry you.

At the end of the baptism I will mark Keaton's forehead with oil and I will say, I sign you with the cross and I mark you as Christ's own forever. For me, that is a powerful moment because it means for me that Jesus Christ, who is the face of the God who is love, will walk with this child forever. Now he may or may not embrace this fact; he may or may not even realize but it is true. And what this means for me in light of that Holy Week is two fold. First, Christ supports me in my daily life no matter how busy or dreary or even tragic it may be. And second, that I am bring the grace of Christ to my everyday life. When I am doing laundry, I am not just doing laundry; I am doing ministry. When I am washing my dishes, I am doing ministry. I don't have to go far away or do crazy things to do ministry. Baptism tells me when I am cleaning up my daughter after she is sick that I am doing ministry, because in that action I am trying to bring the grace of Christ.

Baptism says, don't feel guilty because you are not doing more stuff. The business of life IS the business of the Gospel. Baptism is not about doing more; it is about being changed so that you bring Christ to what you are already doing. Our everyday life does not change after baptism. We still have to go to work, clean our house, care for loved ones and buy groceries. What changes is how we come about all of those things, so that in Jesus, we do them with a new spirit. And it is that new spirit that makes all of the difference. Because now you are doing all of these things with Christ.

How does this work? The logic of baptism is simple. Through water and the Holy Spirit, Keaton will be united with God at the deepest level of his soul. This is a gift from God, but it is also God's hope and desire for this child. This is the whole meaning of the Christian faith and the ultimate meaning of our lives. We were created to be united with God, and in baptism we are both instantly changed and slowly changed. Instantly changed because we are bound to God in a bond that will never break. In other words, God's love for us is eternal and does not change. We can always turn to it and trust it. And God's love has power as well. It changes us slowly as we open ourselves to this love, trust it and live into it. This love that changes us is called grace and it points to our essential identity is in Christ, and that now we bear Christ in all we do. 

And this essential reality is ourselves is expressed in what St. Paul calls the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, self-control, courage. Now how many of you laughed when I read that list? Why is that? Because we realize that the spirit of baptism is messy. There is the promise of new life, but it is quite mushed together with the old life. I stand here and confess that I am a selfish man who is prone to laziness, frustration, and impatience. I am not the epitome of all those good attributes. How do I understand this truth in the reality of my experience? The hard truth of the matter I know is that spiritual growth takes time. As Rowan Williams writes, "The one thing we are truly awful at is taking time, or understanding that some outcomes, some processes, just take the time they take - that you can't rush the business of growing." So I need a few things. The first thing I need is patience and to realize that if God is happy that I am an ongoing project, then I need to kind to myself and accept the fact that my faults will not be burned away quickly. Second, I need to remember the promise of hope. Baptism promises that I will be purified and that in eternity I will filled with love and joy, and my life now is preparation for eternity. I will see God face to face. But for now I need to be intentional. I have come to think that this may be one of the most crucial of all the spiritual virtues. I don't need to be brilliant, wise, or holy. But I do need to show up. Regularly. Preferably everyday. Just before the baptism, we read what is called the Baptismal covenant. And it is a profound statement of what we believe and what the life of a Christian looks like. (BAPTISMAL CONVENANT)  

I think this profound, but with the very important reminder that baptism does not take us out of our lives. The business of life is the business of the Gospel. Imagine how life changes if we can bring Christ into the midst of it. If we can be Christ-bearers in the midst of messy life. It is actually far more than just living a more moral life. I want to end with one image to twig your imaginations. One of the places I really want to go someday is Japan; on my bucket list is to participate in a Japanese tea ceremony. I have read about it quite a bit out of fascination and seen it in videos, but that is not the same as participating. What I love about the tea ceremony is that it takes a very simple activity: making and drinking a cup of tea. Something many of us do everyday. They take this everyday activity and make it into an art form. But they don't do it by bringing out the gold kettle or the fanciest dishes. In fact, it is the opposite. The tea house is austere in its simplicity. They use worn and well used utensils. All who sit at the table have removed marks of rank and all are equal. It is not rushed, but every movement is deliberate and beautiful. The point is that taking what we do everyday and taking it away from the stress of everyday life and doing it deliberately reminds us that the everyday things that we do are beautiful. The mundane act of drinking a cup of tea becomes a doorway into the divine. I think baptism does something very similar. We are invited to see the world as God's world; a grace drenched world; what would it look like to see Christ in every activity? Could dishes be beautiful? Could laundry be beautiful? Can the mundane be beautiful? Can we love the place where we are? I think baptism says yes. Christ in the church; Christ in our homes; Christ at work. Ultimately, it is all the same. God is for you; God is with you.